


Sarah Connor is Dead

by AsterRoc



Series: Multi-fandom Unreliable Narrators [1]
Category: Terminator (1984), Terminator Salvation (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, F/M, POV Male Character, PTSD, alternate POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 08:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterRoc/pseuds/AsterRoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I knew when we made love that I shouldn’t be doing it. I could feel it the instant that Sarah’s lips touched mine, a spark that shook the very foundations of the universe, that something was happening to change everything. At the time though, I thought it was just the sex. It wasn’t until the events of the next day --</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Oh God, I cannot think about it.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sarah Connor is Dead

_"Come with me if you want to live." -- Kyle Reese to Sarah Connor, 1984_

****

I knew when we made love that I shouldn’t be doing it. I could feel it the instant that Sarah’s lips touched mine, a spark that shook the very foundations of the universe, that something was happening to change everything. At the time though, I thought it was just the sex. It wasn’t until the events of the next day --

Oh God, I cannot think about it.

****

I shove the pipe bomb into the tread of the HK-Tank and dodge back into cover before its turrets can swivel around to lock on me. The explosion takes place right after I jump into the dumpster, slamming the lid shut on my head and rocking the whole unit back a few feet. I can feel the heat from the tanker’s oil burning, and I crawl out of the dumpster to see the results. The chassis of the T-800 lies smoldering in the ruins of the oil tanker – no, that’s not right. 

The HK-Tank is lying on its side while the whirring turbines of the HK-Aerial beginning to close in behind me begin to drown out the noise of the fire. My ears are ringing. I look back down towards the burning HK and see Sarah stumbling across the pavement towards the terminator unit. She falls to her knees, apparently in relief, thinking that it is done for. I yell at her to get away, but she cannot hear me over the drone of the aerial’s engines, so I run out to get her. The guns of the Aerial blaze all around us, their noise deafening. 

****

Oh it’s all my fault, all my fault! If I’d only done things a little differently, made the fuse a little longer, or just checked over my shoulder, she would still be here with me. There would still be hope for humanity.

****

I rushed out to grab Sarah, but as I reached her, her knees gave out and she sagged to the ground. I could see that she was at the end of her strength, so I pressed her close to me and let her rest while keeping a wary eye pointed towards the terminator. All too soon the metal body began to stir, and I could see the red of the eye between the red of the flames. I felt Sarah’s body stiffen in fear as she too caught sight of it, though I could not hear her screams above the roar of the fire. I quickly rose and attempted to pull Sarah to her feet as well. She did not rise with me, and I realized that she had suffered burns on her legs from splashing oil. My own fault, I made the fuse too long, the truck was too close to her when the pipe bomb went off!

I helped Sarah to lean on me and we ran into the factory, adrenaline pumping in my veins. 

****

We all press our backs to the wall and watch Connor watch the walkway ahead. As we wait, we try to force ourselves to breathe slowly and evenly after the dash across the open space behind. The fear coiled in our stomachs makes it hard to do anything but pant. Connor signals for eyes and gestures with his hand. Two humanoid, one stationary on left, one making rounds, currently on right. Wait for signal, take out one on left, move quick. We nod to indicate comprehension and I feel cold sweat drip down my back. 

We are inside the main compound of Skynet, and so far we haven’t lost anyone. I know that when Connor calls for the attack though, this will change. I also know that if there were any other way possible, he would take it. My knees are shaking and I feel my gorge starting to rise. I take a deep breath to try and settle my stomach as Connor signals again. A count down. Three … two … one … go! My unit rushes forward to take the stationary HK while the other unit points guns at the entry points to the walkway. As I move forward the name “Cyberdyne Systems” flashes on a wall. The HK turns and raises an arm to spray bullets. I scream. 

****

When Connor and I moved into that factory, and I saw “Cyberdyne Systems” on the wall, I should have known right then not to bring her in there. I should have remembered that it this was the start of it all, the place that gave birth to Skynet, to the HKs, and to the very terminator following behind us with its steady heavy tread. Why didn’t I realize? Why did I have to continue on in? 

****

I half-carried Sarah onto the factory floor, and paused to start flipping switches in the hopes that the noise would drown out our steps. Sarah had enough strength to help with this, and then she insisted on running without my help as we moved further into the factory. I grabbed a metal pipe as we ran. The terminator’s noise discrimination algorithms must have been more advanced than the Resistance techs led me to believe, or maybe Sarah’s injuries were slowing us down more than I realized, for as we reached the steps to the walkway above it was right behind us. 

I gave Sarah a shove and told her to run as I swung the pipe at the terminator and connected with its head. The head snapped to the left with the blow, and then straightened out again staring at me with those glowing red eyes. I kept hitting it as I backed up the steps, giving ground slowly as it advanced. I knew there was no chance I could beat it with just my own strength; I was trying to buy time for Sarah to get away. I should have turned around to look, I should have realized she wasn’t running. But I didn’t and I didn’t. I lit my last pipe bomb and shoved it between two struts in the thing’s torso. 

After releasing my grip on the pipe bomb I dove past the terminator’s legs and down the stairs to get away from the blast. As I fell I turned to see if I could tell where Sarah had gone. Sarah was still standing right behind me until the very end. Unable to give up on any of her soldiers, just like her son. The last sight of her I had was of her face staring in shock at me running away from her and my pipe bomb. Why did I leave her there? How could I do that to her? John Connor wouldn’t do that. If only I could be John Connor! 

The bomb went off. The terminator was torn into pieces. Sarah wasn’t torn into pieces, but an electronic arm entered her body just below her sternum and just above the womb that would never live to bear our savior. She staggered back at the impact, her eyes staring at nothing, and hit the railing behind her. Her head snapped back, then forward, as she toppled over the railing. Her head was going first, her arm out flung to the left as if reaching for something. My eyes were riveted to that arm as it hit a button and then she disappeared behind a machine. I ran down to her and saw that she had triggered a pressing machine that was slowly shutting itself over the torso of the T-800. 

Sarah did not move.

I could not take my eyes from her.

****

My leg is pinned, I cannot move. Marty Bedell steps forward. “I’ll get the prisoners.”

****

Sarah’s eyes were already glassy. I knew there was nothing to do. The terminator was dead, the sound of the machine’s clutch slipping as it reached maximum compression told me that. 

The terminator was dead.

Sarah was dead.

John Connor was dead, or would never be alive.

The Resistance would die.

Skynet will win.

It’s all my fault.

****

I don’t know how long it was before I began to return to myself. Days at least. Terminators were always chasing me, or so I thought, and Hunter-Killers prowled the streets by night so I didn’t sleep. One evening a homeless man let me share his tent – oh such luxuries these people of the past have, and they don’t even know it! In the night a terminator infiltrated the tent and I grabbed whatever I could and hit it as hard as I could. The homeless man slumped down next to me, his hands still fumbling at my empty pants pockets, or perhaps twitching spasmodically. Blood was flowing from his head. I didn’t accept any more invitations after that. 

There is so much food here too. It is amazing what they throw out, and it’s laid out for us scavengers every evening in dumpsters behind the restaurants. So much tastier than the rats I spent so much of my childhood eager to find. 

Maybe it was weeks, or months. Sarah wasn’t there. I grew up hearing stories about her from John Connor. For years I carried her picture in my inner coat pocket. It burned in the fire when a terminator got past our dogs. I can still remember the image of her face fading as the flames licked up the sides and the chemicals began to dissolve in the heat. 

With the picture gone, and Sarah gone, the image fades from my mind as well. Or maybe it’s that the picture was never taken so I couldn’t remember what never existed. Then why can I remember John Connor? 

There wouldn’t be any John Connor now. The Resistance would be futile. In 1997 Skynet would wipe out fifty percent of humanity in one cascade of mutually assured destruction, using our own weapons against us. By 2029 the rest would be long gone. There would be no need to send the T-800 back because there wouldn’t be a strike that breaks through Skynet’s defenses, and Skynet wouldn’t need the final strike of preventing John Connor’s birth. 

****

Waitasec. Rewind. 

****

Sarah Connor is dead. John Connor won’t be born. Skynet will win. Skynet won’t need to kill Sarah Connor. 

As the primitive computers of this time might say, does not compute. 

My mission was to protect Sarah Connor.

But I failed at that. I loved her, I’ve always loved her my whole life, how could I fail her? No, stop thinking like that, it will only send you down unproductive paths. I need to solve this. 

My mission was to protect the Resistance. 

John Connor is the Resistance. 

My mission was to protect John Connor.

But John Connor is dead. No! Think!

My mission is to protect the Resistance. The Resistance is led by a man named John Connor, son of Sarah Connor. 

Sarah Connor is dead.

My mission is to protect the Resistance. The Resistance is led by a man named John Connor. John Connor tells stories of how brave and strong his mother Sarah Connor was. 

The Resistance is led by a man named John Connor. John Connor tells stories about Sarah Connor, who is his mother. 

John Connor is the Resistance. John Connor tells stories about Sarah Connor, who he believes to be his mother. 

Sarah Connor is dead. The Resistance needs a John Connor. 

I will find a John Connor. I will make a John Connor. I will raise him with the memory of his mother Sarah Connor, who died when poor John was only a few years old, and I will be the father that John Connor never talked about. I will hide him for the dark years. I will raise him to be strong enough to survive the future. I will make the tapes John listens to every night for clues, I will take a photograph of a Sarah Connor to inspire John as he leads the Resistance, and to entrance young Kyle to volunteer for this mission. 

I will find a child, I will take him, and I will raise him John Connor. 

John Connor is dead; long live John Connor.

****

_"Thank you, Sarah, for your courage through the dark years. I can't help you with what you must soon face, except to say that the future is not set. You must be stronger than you imagine you can be. You must survive, or I will never exist." --John Connor to Sarah Connor, 2029_

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this piece back in 2009 and just came across it again so decided to post it here. :)


End file.
